Of Death, Life, and Hector
by SectorLutter
Summary: He was the better warrior. The better horseman. The better son.Hector was the better man. He will always be the better man. Hectorcentric. Read ON!
1. Preface

HI. This story is about the death of Hector. Each chapter will be from the point of view of a different character. Some will be short, some will be long, but most likely all will be sad, so if you want a happy fic, not a good choice.

Not all of this is historically accurate, as David Benioff made it really easy for me not to have to do that, and this goes along with the movie not the book. Short intro first.

ENJOY!

- - - -

It is said that when a hero dies, the whole world does not draw breath for a moment, that there is a pause as he is leaving the realm of the living for the realm of the dead. A salute from the world he once knew to guide him to the Elysian Fields.

In that breath, it is said, the people who witness his death often think of what they are witnessing, and honor the life he lived, because to every witness, a life can mean very little, or it can mean the world.

To many, it does.

- - - -


	2. Hector

I knew, before I even heard him shout my name, that this day would be my last. I knew it as I still lay in bed with Andromache and as I watched Astyanax sleep. I knew it when I stood and dressed in my armor, and when I left for the wall. Though you may not believe it, I knew that my end was near the second my eyes were open, before the sun was even up. Somehow, some way, I knew.

I would like to believe that the reason I was given that knowledge was the Gods, gifting me with a small amount of time in which to say goodbye to my loved ones. But as I stand here, faced with the challenge of telling the woman I have loved for more than ten years just how much I have loved her, I know that a few moments is not enough. An eternity would not be enough. I want to rush, speaking as fast with as many words as I can, anything to tell her how much she has meant to me, how much our son has meant to me, but I cannot seem to get my jaw working, so I embrace her instead. Even through my lack of words, she understands. She always has.

I find myself turning even though my entire being desperately wants to cling to her for a few more seconds. A warrior's body, an instrument of war, operating without the use of a mind, as though it does not need one. Have I always been like this? As far as I can remember. Andromache had never liked it, being one of very few people allowed to see beneath my armor. You wanted me to stop fighting, didn't you, Andromache? You knew, too, that this war would be my end.

It is remarkable that I am so calm now, right before the end. Right before I should step out to face that man killer Achilles. I will ask him for a proper burial, I think, but he will not allow it. I know it in my heart. He is angry, and with a man like that, his anger is enough to swallow a man whole. What will you do to me, great Achilles? I try not to think about it. It will not be kind.

In front of me, the gates begin to open, slowly swinging before me, great masses of creaking wood. I can almost hear them speaking, inviting me to face my doom. Inviting me to dance the dance of war once more, just once more. And then, I hope, peace. I have known peace before. In the beauty of Troy. In the love of my father. In the good-natured antics of Paris and the kind, sweet words of Briseis. I have known peace in being a good father to my son, my Astyanax. I have known peace in Andromache.

Perhaps, in this time of war, I will find peace once more.


	3. Paris

Here we are again. Chapter 3, coming up. Enjoy! Thank you to my reviewers, I appreciate it!

- - - -

As I stand her at the wall, my father on my left, the woman I love to my right, I have never felt worse in my entire life. My entire body seems to be wrenched with guilt a thousand times more powerful than anything I have ever felt before. My heart aches with sorrow and pain, and my mind is sending tiny jolts of fragmented emotion up and down my spine. I feel as though I am being torn into a thousand pieces or stung by a thousand bees or stabbed a thousand times.

And I deserve every moment of it.

I know this above everything as I watch Hector, my closest ally, my protector for almost 27 years, my _brother_ walk out on to the plain, about to face his doom for my foolish mistakes.

It reminds me of the time I was ten, and I stole my father's horse. I had thought I could handle a stallion of his size, but the horse stomped through my disillusionment very quickly (as well as nearly stomping on my face) when he bucked me and ran off into the hills of Troy. Scared, alone, and unsure of what to do, I went to the only person I was sure I could trust: Hector.

"Do you love me, Brother? Would you protect me from any enemy?" I asked him, nearly at the verge of tears. I remember he reached over and ruffled my hair before he answered.

"Of course I love you, Paris, and you need not worry about any enemy." I remember he seemed so wise to me, nearly ten years my senior at eighteen. And for some reason, before I had even told him what I had done, I was calmer, because somehow I knew that he would never break that promise.

And even though nearly seventeen years has passed since that day, he never has. No matter what I did.

Even through my greatest, most foolish act, an action so disastrous it now promised to destroy the country we both loved so dearly, Hector protected me.

I think the fact that hurts worst of all is that I can do nothing to protect him as he goes out to face his death. I can not even take his place, a place that rightfully belongs to me.

He was the better warrior. The better horseman. The better son.

Hector was the better man. He will always be the better man.

And though I have always known this, it hits me hardest this day, the day when his life is lost as a result of mine.

And for the first time in my life, I feel truly sorry for a mistake I have made. For the first time in my life, I wish that I could apologize for my wrongs.

But I know, even though I did not have the chance to beg my brother for forgiveness, I am already forgiven.

He is, after all, the better man.


	4. Priam

I loved my son from the moment he opened his eyes, and I will love him beyond the moment he closed them.

Any good father cares for their son, and I am no exception. To me, my children are the world, and Hector is the center of it. My son, my Hector.

I knew from the second he came into life that he was special. All parents believe their child is special, from the dullest squirrel to the most putrid serpent. But I knew that my son truly was unique, and that I would not be the only one to think so. I knew that he would make a strong warrior, a just prince, and a good man. He would fulfill any and all dreams I had for him, and be twice the man I would ever be, twice the ruler. I could see in my son's eyes from the minute that the tiny infant before me opened them that he was born to be a leader. A King.

But sometimes the gods decree that our destinies are not the way we had planned them.

I have always believed in the Gods. I trust them with my heart and my soul, and until this moment, I have never questioned them. But what good father does not question the decision of even the wisest and most powerful of gods when his son is set to die before his eyes?

My son is a good warrior, leader of my army. My son is a good horseman, trainer of my cavalry. My son is a good husband and father to my daughter-in-law and my grandson. My son is only 35 years old.

I never dreamed I would see this day, day of his ending. I am nearly 60 years of age. Many who have reached this age have already gone to the next stage of life. I am sure many wondered how and why I was meant to stay on this earth, but I have never before this moment. Is this what you have kept me here for, my Gods? To watch my eldest son die? My son, my Hector. Killed before my eyes.

I have served you well, my Gods. Is this how I am repaid? With the death of my legacy?

I know that it is blasphemous to think such thoughts, but I think it unfair. It is said that each ruler is poured two glasses of fate from the gods: Joy and Sorrow. Today I drink deeply from that second cup.

He is going out now, even with my fading eyesight I can see him setting off on to the plain, shield in hand. Achilles will beat him, slaughter him, and desecrate his body. What have I done?

My son, My Hector. I have failed you as a father. I have not protected you well enough, as I swore I would on the day you were born. I should have sent the Spartan Queen back, you told me it was so. And yet I did not listen. I see now that I should have. No person is worth you; no love should bear the price of your life. I see that now, too late.

I am almost too deep in my thoughts to see him fall, to see the sharp edge of a killer's spear fly between the crevices in his thick Trojan armor to the soft, vulnerable flesh beneath. I can his hear his pain, his quickening breath, his rapid heart, beating through my head like a drum. And then-

And then it is over.

My hopes and my dreams, dragged through the Trojan sand like a rag doll, being smothered in pale dirt and bitter wind.

My son. My Hector.


	5. Achilles

here we are again. yay. i am so glad that all of you are responding in the way you are. it makes my day. please keep reviewing! also, i haven't put a disclaimer in here, so here it is: i don't own Troy or any of its characters. (darn)

and a just a bit warning about this chapter: The way I portray Achilles reaction is a little off center. I imagined his rage being choppy and eclectic, uncontrollable, like he wasn't really thinking. So the sense factor of this chapter is... different.

read on and tell me what you think. no other chapters are like this, so if you hate it, don't worry.

- - - - - -

There is no peace for me.

Mine is a lifetime of war. There is no peace in war, no pacts among lions and men. I should have known that. Not even a woman like her could bring peace.

There is no peace for a killer.

This is my fate, mother? You should have warned me! Or did you? I cannot recall. You told me I would have death. You told me I would have glory. Neither is visible to me. Only the anger and pain remain.

Is this his fate? A father, a prince. A good man. But he killed Patroclus. He will pay.

He thought he was killing me. I wish he had. Will there be peace in death for me?

A father, a good man. He will have peace. He has had it. Selfish, isn't it? Unfair? I have no peace. He kills, I kill, he has peace, I have none. Why? Have I not brought glory and victory to many a king?

I hate him. I hate the killer of Patroclus, Patroclus, my cousin, a boy.

I hate his peace, and the woman who watches him from the wall, tears in her eyes, babe in hands. I could have had that. I chose a different path. Foolish prince. It is better to feel nothing. Don't you see? I allowed myself one luxury, one love. And he died at your hands. You will pay.

But she loves him so... should I spare one life?

No. I will kill the prince. He is the one that took you, cousin. He won't have eyes tonight. He won't have ears or a tongue. He'll walk through Hades blind, deaf and dumb...

Will he say welcome, too, when I arrive? I would drive my sword through him again, if I saw him. He killed Patroclus...

So much rage! Briseis, help me... please take the anger away.

I walked away from you. Why? You _were_ peace, weren't you?

Maybe it was myself that I was angry at all along. Because I could not see the path that mattered. Maybe I was the fool. Maybe I should stop this madness. Troy. It will fall. It means so much to this people.

Patroclus.

When did I kill him? When did he drop to my feet? When was my sword in his chest?

Too late now.

There is no regret in killing.

There is no hesitation in rage.

There is no peace in glory.


	6. Helen

Okay, this will be one of the last chapters. I don't know if I'm gonna add one more chapter or two, but I will tell you there will only be one more NEW person added to the chapters. and if you don't know who THAT person is, what the heck are you doing reading Troy Fanfiction? heh. Anyway, thanks to my lovely reviewers, I always enjoy a nice review. and to those of you who said you hated Achilles, Yeah, I do too. :D  
  
Author's Notes: Though I HATE Achilles and Paris, I think I loathe Helen most of all. SHe was all nice in the movie, though, so I've tried to keep my opinions at bay. If you don't think I did I good job, I apologize. I'm only human. I think it's pretty good any way.  
  
(and to whoever said it, Priam's was my fav chapter too.)  
- - - - - - - - - - -

I have never felt like this before.

Love. Guilt. Happiness. Sadness. Anger. Caring. In my life, I have felt all of these, sometimes frequently, sometimes too little.

But Amazement. I have never felt this before.

I could be feeling anger or sadness. I should be feeling guilt. And for a few moments, I was. I felt so guilty I could have died of it. I felt like Paris does.

And then I watched. I watched the way that Hector fought, the way he died. More importantly, I saw _why_ he fought, _why _he died.

He did not fight like Paris, for the most beautiful woman in the world.

He did not fight like Achilles, for vengeance.

He did not fight like Agamemnon, for wealth and land.

Hector gave his life for a plain, average woman, a small child, and the love of a country about to fall.

This perplexed me, starved of true, meaningful love as I had been for so long. I did not understand. His woman is no beauty, his child no _great_ gift. And his country? It is like any other, with crime and criminals and all the other pitfalls any city has. What, then, was worth the life of a great warrior such as he? 

But for a brief second before his eyes closed forever and his soul went spiraling down to Hades, Hector, first Prince of Troy, Tamer of Horses, Leader of Men, looked up at the stands where his family sat, in the city he called his own. And I saw then, in his eyes. To his wife, he was a husband. To his son, he was a father. To his brother, he was a hero. He was able to die for the simple fact of knowing that he was loved for who he was as a man, not the title he held. And with his city, it was the same.

And I wept at the knowing, at the understanding of the man Hector was. I wept realizing how rare he was, what a gift. And I was amazed at him, Hector of Troy.

And for the smallest of moments, though I shall never admit it as long as I live, I wondered if I had followed the right brother.


	7. Andromache

Hello, lovely reviewers and readers!! Welcome to my newest chapter!

I am truly sorry it took so long- in my opinion, this character is the most important to witness Hector's death (mostly because this character was most important in his life) and I wanted to get it just right. Unfortunately, I am no Queen Arwen, nor is this chapter anywhere near as good as her fic of the same story line, From the Walls. So if you want a really good one, go read hers, but if you're okay with mediocre, you've come to the right place!! Heh.

Anyway, this is the second to last chapter. YAY! To celebrate that, I'm going to begin this chapter with the most fun things of all- disclaimers! Okay. Here we go- I do not own the song "Remember" performed by Josh Groban and Tanja Tzarovska, which belongs the The WB, it's affiliates, and James Horner. I do not own the books "Troy" by Adele Geras or "Goddess of Yesterday" by Caroline B. Cooney, nor do I own the writing styles or references contained in those books.

Those were just to be safe, they might not even apply to this chapter.

Enjoy the story, and keep reviewing!

- - - - -

I did not think I could love him when I met him. Now I fear I can never let him go.

The thought has passed through my mind countless times, over and over and over again. Every single time Hector was at risk, which was often, I would think of how I could never lose him. Each time, I would worry to the point of hysteria.

And as I stand here on this wall, I wonder what happened to that hysteria.

I am not calm, exactly, as I watch him prepare for battle. I am almost... cold ... indifferent even. As if my heart had already rendered a verdict on this battle, and my soul had already made it's retreat. I can feel, in a place deep inside myself, a space being made, a giant hole that he has inhabited for so many years. Already I feel the emptiness, already I feel him gone.

It was not supposed to be this way.

When my father sent me here, it was for safety. It was for love. And on my father's dying day, the people said he thanked the gods I was safe. In Troy. City of the strong walls. City of the strong rulers. City of the strong.

For so long, it was. Though I hated him at first, I grew to love Hector. Anyone privileged enough to know him does. He became my savior, my protector. When I cried, he dried my tears. When I fell, he was there to pick me up.

Hector is my world.

A better husband you could never find, a better father you could never hope for. He is kind and gentle and loving.

But Hector has never been a prince of peace.

For so long, we fought over his place in his father's kingdom. For so long, I begged him not to go, not to fight. And every day he was gone, I prayed to the gods he would come back to me.

And he did. Every time he did. Through wars, through rebellions, through long trips at sea and longer battles on land, Hector returned through it all, safe, unharmed, smiling and beautiful as he always was.

I think that is why I was most worried about this war, the first war on I had witnessed on Troy's own soil. I think I knew that all my prayers for his safe return would do no good here, in the place of his ancestors. There was no escape, no return.

I knew from the moment the Queen arrived that Hector's days were numbered, that his life hung on a thread.

And now he is about to fall in front of my eyes.

My husband, my life. How can I go on without you? How can our son live without a father? Every particle in my being prays for you, longs for you. There can be no Andromache without a Hector. I cease to exist without your existence.

It is as I think this that he falls, and the pain begins.

The darkness of my heart explodes, spirals of anger, hopelessness, sadness, mixing together in my brain, stopping my heart and torturing my soul.

I can't seem to focus on what's in front of me as my mind reels with memories of all the times Hector had been there.

Hector.

He is panting, he is struggling, he is bleeding...

And suddenly I am falling, too, my body curving downward, stone and tears obscuring my vision of the plains.

And this time, Hector is not there to catch me.


	8. Hector

He's standing in front of me now. For all the times I've warned Paris, for all the times I've told new soldiers, my mind is not on the predator in front of me.

I can only think of my son.

_  
_Astyanax. I loved him from the moment I saw him, as every father does. Not even as big as my arm, and yet... such perfection. I wondered how something so tiny could be so beautiful, could instill such love in a person.

I know he will grow to be a great man. He'll have his mother's wit and charm, his mother's intelligence, his mother's looks... and hopefully, he'll have bits and pieces of myself sprinkled her and there, wherever they are useful. I know he will be resilient and strong. I know he will be a prince.

But will he remember me?

It is the last thing I should be thinking about, standing face to face with my killer. But I can not help but think it.

Will my son remember me?

As a turn and cast a glance back at the wall one last time, I know that I will never truly learn the answer.

But my entire being hopes the answer is yes.

- - - - - -

_Remember, I will still be here,  
As long as you hold me, in your memory  
  
Remember, when your dreams have ended,  
Time can be transcended,  
Just remember me  
  
I am the one star that keeps burning, so brightly,  
It is the last light, to fade into the rising sun  
  
I'm with you,  
Whenever you tell,  
My story,  
For I am all I've done  
  
Remember, I will still be here,  
As long as you hold me, in your memory,  
Remember me  
  
I am that one voice, in the cold wind,  
That whispers,  
And if you listen, you'll hear me call across the sky  
  
As long as,  
I still can reach out, and touch you,  
Then I will never die  
  
Remember, I'll never leave you,  
If you will only,  
Remember me  
  
Remember me...  
  
Remember, I will still be here,  
As long as you hold me,  
In your memory  
  
Remember,  
When your dreams have ended,  
Time can be transcended,  
I live forever,  
Remember me  
  
Remember me,  
Remember... me..._

- - - - - - - -

Okay, that's the end!

Thanks to y'all for reading and reviewing, I really, really appreciate it.

SO here goes....

Thank you to Eerin's Owl, Newbrown, Arien Star, Lady Hades, Elusia, Stahlfan125, Tea Monster, Sara and Trust No One, all of you left me many nice reviews that cheered me up so much, no matter how little you write.

Special thanks go to Spinal-Biatcha, for being such a good cheerleader in putting up with my annoying chapter talks, and to Queen Arwen, because you leave such beautiful and heart warming reviews.

(And P.S.- I'm currently starting a story called _Cousin Dearest_ about Briseis. I don't know if it will work out, but hopefully ((cross your fingers)) you'll see me again in the Troy department in a little while. if that doesn't pan out, you should be able to find me around somewhere- all you have to do is look. :D)


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